Ghosts
by Tarts Wardrobe
Summary: For the past week and a half her phone has rung every night at exactly two o'clock. Tonight is no different.
1. Phone Calls

**Ghosts  
><strong>By _Tarts Wardrobe_

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon

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><p><strong>Tuesday, August 2nd<strong>

Her cell phone rings from her bedside table. It has rung every night at exactly two o'clock for the past week and half, so why should tonight be any different? She knows that once she holds the phone to her ear, she will hear nothing but rushing wind. Not the sound of a breathing human, just wind. So on this night, with her phone to her ear she mumbles a sleepy (and annoyed) _hello? _Of course there is no answer, just the sound of a strong wind blowing and light static. She clicks her phone off, sets it back down on the table and drifts off into deep sleep once more.

**Wednesday, August 3rd**

The next night her cell phone rings from her bedside table. It has rung every night at exactly two o'clock for the past week and half and tonight is no different. She holds the phone to her ear and listens for the rush of wind. She has grown accustomed to this, she finds the wind soothing. Like a bedtime lullaby. Tonight however, there is no wind. There is some static but then, she hears it.

"_Hello?_" says the voice of a man. She sits up a little straighter in her bed. She looks over at the sleeping form of her boyfriend. Yes, he is still asleep.

"_Hello?_" The voice repeats itself. It sounds quiet, as if the call is coming in from a faraway place.

"Hi" she manages to say.

"_Who is this?_" the man's voice asks.

"You tell me," She whispers hoarsely into the handset. "You have called me every night for nearly two weeks and haven't said a word. Who are you?" She is getting frustrated now.

"_Sorry, I don't know how I am even talking to you. I don't know what is going on._" His voice is fading in and out; the call is going to drop. "_I need your-_" The line has gone dead, he is gone.

She stares at the small screen on her cell phone quizzically. _Who was that?_ She thinks,_ what did he need? _She is not too bothered by this, because in the next few moments she is sound asleep.

**Thursday, August 4th**

The next night she is awake, ready for the call. The clock on her bedside table strikes two and like clockwork her phone begins to ring. She hastily picks it up and cradles the device between her ear and her shoulder. Tonight the static is plenty, she can barely make out the strangers voice when he greets her. She skips formalities and dives into the questions she has been planning throughout the day.

"Who are you?" She asks. She hopes this time to receive a straight answer.

"_I need your help_" she makes out over the static. Tonight his voice seems further away than it did during the previous call.

She swings her long legs over the side of her bed. The light jostling causes her boyfriend to stir in his sleep. She walks out quietly into the kitchen and leans against the marble countertop.

"I don't know who you are," she speaks more loudly now, "or what the hell is going on here, but you've got to stop calling me." Her tone is forceful, so unlike her usual cherry cough syrup voice. Sickly sweet.

"_Calling?_" The voice repeats, the static is nearly all gone. Yet, his voice is just as distant.

"Yes. Calling." She says, "Are you going to tell me what's going on here?" She drums her long, manicured fingers over the counter.

"_I don't know, I just need you to-_" The call drops. She holds the phone to her ear for a few seconds, listening to the silence. She clicks it off and shuffles back into her bedroom. She slips beneath the bed sheets, folding herself into her boyfriend's body. Tonight, sleep is more difficult to come by.

**Friday, August 5th**

Just as it has for the last two weeks, her phone rings at two o'clock the next night. She is already awake waiting for her ringtone to start playing, signalling an incoming call. She holds the handset to her ear. Tonight the static is minimal but no voice speaks out. Yet.

"Hello?" She says into the phone. She waits a moment and hears a loud sigh come from the other end. "Hello?" She repeats. She holds her breath. She does not want any sound to interfere.

"_I don't know what's going on!_" the voice shouts out, "_I just need someone to help me out!_" He is talking more to himself then to her. Though his shouts are loud, she hears his voice slowly fading away. She reacts fast, not wanting to lose him again.

"I'll help you." She says. Her voice is unsure at first but she repeats herself, speaking more confidently. "I can help you out. What do you need me to do?" She asks. Before he has a chance to respond, the line goes dead. The phone still held in her hand, she lies back down in bed and tries for sleep, knowing there really is no hope.

**Saturday, August 6th**

The clock reads just past two. Her phone in her lap remains silent. Lightening outside the window catches her eye. He is not calling tonight.

**Tuesday, August 9th**

She is almost _relieved _when her phone rings that night. She throws the bed sheets away from her body and clutches the phone to her ear.

"_It needs to be done,_" She hears the stranger say. His voice the quietest it has ever been.

"I can help you," she says, "What can I do?"

She hears quiet sobbing. He is crying.

"What can I do to help?" She repeats herself slowly.

"_Talk to them._" He says between muffled cries. His voice sounds broken.

"Who?" She asks him this urgently. She wishes he would be more straight-forward. Less cryptic. He tells her an address, someplace near where she grew up. She scribbles this location down on the shopping list she wrote earlier that day.

"_Tell them I'm sorry._" He says this sadly. "_Tell them I love them._"

She wants to ask him who _they _are but she knows the line has gone dead.

She wakes up that morning having completely forgotten about the phone call. Her boyfriend is sitting at the kitchen table when she shuffles into the room.

"Mimi, what is this address for?" He asks. He is holding up the grocery list. Her eyes widen slightly, but she plays it off.

"It's my bosses address," She lies. She hardly ever lies to him, so why is she doing it now? Why could she not just tell him about the late night, cryptic phone calls and the secret mission she is being sent out on? She contemplates this for a minute, but she decides to go along with this lie. "I have to drop some work off at her house today." She looks at the clock on the kitchen stove. It is barely nine o'clock. "In fact, I better get going." She kisses her boyfriends cheek and grabs her car keys.

It is not until she parks outside the apartment building that she realizes how familiar this building looks. She shakes off the feeling. She lived in Odaiba for twelve years, everything here looks familiar.

She climbs up the iron staircase and stops at the third landing. Down the narrow pathway, past several doors is a large grouping of bouquets. She walks towards them. They are lying before a door. This is the door of whoever she needed to speak with, whoever _he _needed her to speak with. She lifts her gaze from the abundant flower arrangements to the mailbox. It had been nailed crookedly, but that was not what she is staring at. The mailbox is overflowing with letters, envelopes of different colours and sizes, but she ignores this. What catches her attention is the family name that has been carved into the metal of the mailbox. She feels her stomach knot up. She can hardly bring herself to knock on the painted white door. Instead, she stares at the chipped paint. Her mind is racing. She cannot decide whether to knock or just leave when the door slowly swings open.

A girl, just a few years her junior stands before her. Her brown hair hangs limply at her shoulders. Her eyes are red and swollen. Despite her unusual appearance, there is no mistaking her.

"Kari," she whispers.

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><p><strong>Tarts Wardrobe **This is much unlike my other works, but I'm just trying it out. Let me know if you're interested in reading more. Thanks!


	2. Conversations

Ghosts  
>By <em>Tarts Wardrobe<em>

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon

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><p>The girl stares back at Mimi. Her eyes are sparkling with sadness and her skin looks dull and grey. It takes a mere moment, but Kari finally registers who this stranger at her door is.<p>

"Mimi?" Her voice is barely a whisper. Her voice sounds coarse. The late night sobs have ran her throat raw.

Mimi is staring. Dumbfounded. She has no idea what she has gotten herself into. Before she can say another word, a second figure appears behind Kari. His blue eyes are brimming with tears and his face looks tired and sad. Still, even with his sunken features it only takes Mimi a second to realize who this is.

Takeru "T.K" Takaishi.

The couple are staring down at her. She feels awkward and out of place, like she really should not be here. She is imposing on something obviously very personal. She opens her mouth, but the words do not come out easily. She swallows, and finds her throat to be quite dry. Her face has grown hot, and she can almost feel the redness creep up into her cheeks. This has to be the wrong address. She is sure of it.

"I'm… I'm sorry" it finally comes out and she is already running past the other apartment doors. She is already running down the iron staircase. She is just running.

Mimi gets in bed that night and her mind is still racing. Sleep does not seem like an option at this point. She watches the numbers on her analog clock change. It's twelve o'clock. It's one o'clock…

At two o'clock, Mimi is still awake. Her boyfriend is laying so still beside her, she envies him.

The silence of the room is disturbed as her cellphone vibrates from her bedside table. It sounds like a drum roll. She clutches the phone in her hand and stares down at the small screen. Unknown number. She debates answering it. What if ignoring these cryptic calls just makes them stop? That would not be so bad. Her sleep schedule would work itself out and the dark circles under her eyes would vanish. But, no. She holds the phone to her ear, just as she has nearly every night for the last two weeks. The familiar sound of rushing wind and static greets her.

"Hello?" She says. Her voice does not sound much like herself. It is nervous and cautious.

"_Did you do it?_" The stranger asks. As always, their voice sounds distant and sad. But tonight is is also anxious. "_Did you tell them?_"

"I need to know who you are. Why did you tell me to go to the Kamiya's house? Who are you?" She has so many questions.

"_I - I don't know who I am. I don't know whats happening! You are the only person I can talk to! I need you to help me!_" The mans voice sounds hysterical.

"I don't understand," she whispers, taking note of her boyfriend. He rolls over in his sleep. A glimmer of drool is visible on his chin. She gets out of bed and quietly steps into the kitchen. "Where are you calling me from?" she asks.

The voice on the other end sighs loudly.

"_I don't know!_" He sounds exasperated. "_If I knew what the fuck was going on, I wouldn't need your help!"_

"Don't you _dare _talk like that to me! You have called me nearly night for two weeks asking me to help you out! I can easily ignore your calls!" Her temper is flaring, and her voice is showing it.

"_Then why are you still talking to me?_"

Good question. She could easily put her phone on silent each night, or just turn it off all together. She did not have to make the visit to Highton View Terrace and she most certainly did not need to be taking such attitude from a stranger. What was she doing?

"I don't know." she replies shortly. "I guess… I guess I feel like, I don't know. Like, maybe…" her voice trails off. The line has gone quiet. She waits for the line to drop, but it doesn't.

"Hello?" She says.

"_I'm still here." _

It is then when she realizes for the first time in two weeks the line is clear from wind or static. It is the first time she can really hear his voice. It is deep and manly. However, at the same time there is almost something boyish about it. She leans her back against the kitchen counter and cradles her phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Tell me about yourself." She asks. She is tired of these vague messages. She just wants to talk.

_"I don't really know much about myself. I mean, I know some things but, I'm not so sure…" _His voice trails off. She is happy to be hearing his voice so clearly. It is a nice voice.

"Tell me what you know."

"_I like the summer time. I like waking up early, before the heat becomes too unbearable and just sitting outside. I miss that."_

She smiles sadly. She cannot help but notice something in his speech. Pain.

"But, it's summer now. You can't miss it too much." she says, trying to lighten the tone of the conversation.

_"It is?" _He asks, he sounds so surprised. "_I didn't know…"_

She changes the subject.

"Tell me something else." She looks at the clock on the stove. It reads two thirty-six. This is their longest conversation.

"_It's hard." _He says. _"Remembering things."_

"Please try," she asks. She is careful not to beg.

_"I remember…" _He begins, but before he can finish the line goes dead. She leans against the counter unsure of what just happened. Her mind works fast, trying to piece things together. She is so preoccupied that she does not notice her boyfriend standing in the door.

"Meems?" he says. His voice is sleepy and his eyes are half shut. "What are you doing out here?"

She is so startled at his sudden appearance, she feels her feet slide out from underneath her. Just a bit. She stumbles, but catches herself.

"I was just-" She begins. "I was just getting some water. My throat was feeling dry."

He nods and gets a glass of his own. He fills it up and stands before her. He places his hands on her hips and leans in to kiss her. His lips meet hers, gently and he takes her hand and leads her back to bed.

As her head hits the pillow, sleep suddenly washes over her. She tries to stay awake. She tries to piece together more of the puzzle. Her mind is racing, slower now, but the wheels are still turning.

And finally, she realizes it. She knows who it is.

But, her eyes are closing and her brain is shutting down and soon enough she is fast asleep.

And in the morning, she does not remember.

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><p><strong>Tarts Wardrobe **I hope people are still interested in this. I really liked the first chapter of this and I really hope I didn't totally ruin it with this one. Wah. Hope you liked it.


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